Prologue of Hogwarts: 1971, Sam's Story
by Lyssa Lithium
Summary: As you should know, Harry Potter's parents went to Hogwarts, years and years before Harry; 1971-1978 to be exact . This is a story about Sam, Jen, Lily, James, Remus and Sirius. What dangers did they face?
1. Gift

Chapter One: Gift

The air whistled past her ears, and she wanted to shut her eyes for the wind was making them drip like a waterfall. She didn't close them, however, because she didn't want to miss any of it. She expected to feel her hair fly around like anime characters getting shocked, but it was as if her hair didn't exist. She flapped her wings (that replaced her arms) a couple times to gain height, and the velocity at which she glided down was so great, so breath-taking, she actually did close her eyes. She felt the familiar sense in her stomach that she was falling... falling into a deep...

Reality.

Although she didn't jump out of bed, she was still surprised, even after having the same dream for months, that it wasn't real. When she dreamed, she felt liberated, light. She floated on the wind, and not once was she sad... except when the dream ended. That was the worst part: finding out it was just a dream, just her wild imagination playing tricks on her again. Sometimes her thoughts were so wild, she creeped herself out. What kind of normal eleven-year-old girls dreamed about being an owl? No-one she knew even dreams about being an animal for more than one dream... but Sam wasn't exactly normal.

"Samara Chandree!" Nora called up the stairs. Sam turned around to glance at her clock. She was startled that it was already ten-thirty. She had slept late this morning; usually, she was up by eight. She groaned, flicking on the lamp that sent harsh light to interfere with her eyes. She could see the inverted colouring imprinted on her retina as she looked around her usually cluttered room- ahem, attic. Her mind skittered around, trying to rest on an option. Staying where she was and pretending to be asleep so Nora would leave her alone was Plan A. Plan B was for her to drag her caffiene-deprived body off her soft, warm bed and attempt to shove aside the mountains of books that were supposed to be in boxes.

Sam could hear creaking on the rungs of the ladder, getting louder with each passing one, signalling Nora was coming Sam's way. Sighing, she took one last look around her room, and decided Plan A was more to her satifaction. She clicked off the lamp, pulled her pillow over her head, and closed her eyes just as Nora entered her step-daughter domain. Yeah, that's right. Step-daughter. Sam's mother Taryn had died when she was seven, due to drowing. She had been teaching at a school in London, so Sam reasoned she shouldn't be hurt about it; she barely remembered her and it's not like her mother had any time for her. She had seen her mother for a few months out of the year. But Sam did remember that the time she'd spent with her mother was the happiest times of her life. Nora tried hard everyday, but no-one could replace Taryn.

Thinking about Taryn brought tears to Sam's eyes, so by the time Nora arrived at her bed, Sam was crying. "Oh honey," Nora cooed, "are you alright?" Sam thought this was a very stupid question, but she didn't say anything. She attempted to take control of herself again, earning her shaky breaths and a sympathic look from Nora. Sam actually did like Nora; Sam thought she was wonderful. But it's when Nora tried to take the place of Taryn that Sam got a little cheesed off with her. Otherwise, the time Sam spent with Nora, she treasured... just not as fondly as she would have with her mother. Nora seemed to be reading her thoughts, and to prove so, she told Sam, "You missing your mom is perfectly understandable at your tender age."

"I'm not tender!" Sam argued defensively. "I just knackered. I just need some more sleep." Denial, she knew, but she paid no recognition to it. She rolled over, putting her back to Nora. She could almost feel Nora's frown and the tears of rejection welling in her eyes. For a moment, Sam was caught off guard; she didn't like people being upset, especially her oldies. "Your father-" Her voice broke, and Sam, flabbergasted, turned towards her. "Dean," Nora continued, turning away so Sam could not see the tears she already knew were there. "He made you all a jaffle, if you're interested..." Sam placed a firm hand on Nora's shoulder. "Nora," she began, feeling like a dag because she didn't call her "mom" like Nora would have liked. "I-"

"Go eat something, child," Nora inturrupted, not wanting to share her feelings. Nora could be, if given the chance, more guarded with her emotions than Sam. Sam broke out, "In a tic, Nora...I need to say I'm a galoot, and I'm sorry. I haven't seen my mother in four years, and I have to realize eventually she will never come back." She felt relieved when Nora nodded and embraced her with enthusiam. She loved these moments, and during them, she could picture a happier time, before her mother had abandoned her. She felt like the sun would rise again, not because it had to, but because it wanted to. Nora stroked her hair, and chastised, "Honey, please don't call yourself names, and you can't apologize for something that's not your doing. Don't knock yourself, it isn't polite."

"Neither am I." Sam concluded, getting up. Taking Nora's hand, she brought her off the bed and decended the ladder from the attic first, jabbering to Nora the entire way. "I think there's a blowie in my room, I could hear the twit all night long. Maybe that's why I'm so zonked." Nora joined Sam at the bottom of the ladder and the two of them made it into the living room, where Sam's older brother Theo was captivated by the telly. Theo whinged constantly, earning shouting from Sam and happy baby cries from Sam's little sister Raven. Raven, currently, was rather wrapped, whacking her rattle on the side of her highchair as she consumed a toasted bacon sandwhich, which turned Sam's attention on grub. "Nora said you had a jaffle for me?" she asked her father.

Dean turned to her from the refridgerator, and pointed to the table, where no less than three jaffles waited for her. Usually not a morning person, Dean wandered from the fridge to the table, carrying an alligator pear. Sam took her stool and began devouring. Sam didn't eat her her body weight times two in food per day; usually, it was only breakfast that turned on her feeding frenzy. Of course, living in the back blocks, that was natural. One needed a full stomach to work on, and usually the adrenaline kept the body moving all day long. Whereas some people didn't eat breakfast and ate lunch and dinner, Sam ate in the morning and only in the morning, otherwise she couldn't sleep because of her headache.

"Dad, I think you have an alligator pear problem," Sam offered, biting into her sandwich. Dean raised an eyebrow, asking, "What's wrong with avacados?" Sam shrugged and took another (ten) bite(s). "Nothing," Nora interjected, giving Sam a stern look before smiling in a prankster-manner. "In moderation," she finished with a rather large grin. Dean grunted, grumpy as per usual. Sam remembered Taryn used to be a morning person... To avoid tears, she focused on her jaffle. It was overflowing with bacon and flavour, the perfect distraction. Once she was done, she looked to Theo, nestled on the couch. He sat in that same spot in the exact same position so often, Sam could swear the couch had Theo's arse-mould on it.

Sam spent the rest of the day working in the orchard, picking boombera from her father's macadamia trees. Not only are macadamia nuts were amazingly healthy, but the plant is great for the skin. Unfortunately for Avago (the dog who attempted and failed at pretty much everything), boombera were toxic to dogs, and that's why Dean's macadamia orchard was surrounded by a chain-link fence: for the dog's safety. Inside Sam's house, macadamia plants were everywhere, its glossy foilage used for ornamental purposes. While she worked, she had her fair share of macadamia nuts as well. She also watched the wildlife all around her, meaning the Hycinth Macaws pecking a fair few of the nuts out of the trees. Because Dean overproduced, he didn't set up a scarecrow or any other type of defense mechanism.

By sunset, Sam, exhausted and cheerful, went back inside to to clean herself off. The overalls that she had thrown on after breakfast were grass-stained and dirt-streaked. Her white tank top she wore underneath was soaked in sweat. As she changed into her pajamas, she felt proud of her productivity for the day. She had been working as often as possible for five days now; she would miss the fields when they would move. Dean had told her they were moving to England, a scary thought for Sam. "They all talk gaga, and I know no-one there!" Sam had protested. But Dean had made up his nutty mind. Sam was depressed she wouldn't be able to work in the orchard anymore. They had fought, and Dean had even compromised: he would bring a tree to London. It wasn't good enough for Sam, but she had given up, viewing the I've-made-up-my-mind expression on her father's face.

Thinking about the argument, Sam had gotten angry all over again. She wondered how Dean could leave behind all of his trees, his business, his life. She wondered how Nora felt about all of this, leaving her hometown. She wondered why, if Dean was just going to move back, did he bother to move to Australia in the first place. She wondered why they were moving to London, where it was rainy and drab all the time. She wondered why they had to move at all, for that matter. And she wondered, last but not least, why it had to be the city that Taryn had died in. She briefly thought about the school she would go to, for that matter, and if it would be the one that had caused Taryn to die. Finally, she accepted it; with a mission.

If Sam was going to move, she was going to uncover the secret, the truth behind her mother's death. She would spare no expense and do whatever it took to find out what truly happened to her mother. She made this resolve as she tucked herself in bed, abandoning a book for tonight. Thinking of a book, she found herself crtisizing the mess of literature on her floor. She figured she could clean her room tomorrow, before working. Of course, "clean" wasn't the accurate word. It was more of "pack". Her hometown, the place that she had lived all her life, was going to be worlds away. She had never stepped foot out of Queensland, and now she was moving to an entire different continent. Needless to say, she was terrifed.

As Sam drifted off to sleep, she could remember, or maybe imagine, the words her mother used to say to her before she slept: "I know you pulled me in, Mara. I know you have that power. And when you're old enough, you'll know why. You have a gift, honey. You call out to people. If you call out loud enough, they'll hear you and they'll help you, sweetheart. Whenever you need me, just call my name and I'll be with you in your dreams." Because Sam didn't know if that was true or not, she didn't call out for her mother. She didn't call out to anyone. She kept to herself and drifted off, prepared to let the flight of her dream lift her from underneath her wings.

That didn't happen.

Instead, she was in the living room, alone on the couch, covered by a quilt. She wondered, for a breif kooky moment, if she had fallen asleep on the couch and didn't remember. But she was a lucid dreamer, meaning she knew that this was a dream and not real life. The telly was on, turned to a grainy channel that looked like black and white snow cascading in a blizzard. Confused, she rused forwards and clicked the button that would normally shut the telly off, but the screen did not fade to black. "Theo!" shouted Sam, preparing to tell Theo to fix his precious telly. The screen became clearer, and she could see a male figure, profiled on the screen. "Sam?" the figure called, sounding strikingly familiar. "Samara Olivia Wendy Lynne Chandree, you better have a good explanation!" the male screamed at her. Once the last word was out of his mouth, the picture came immediately into focus. "Theo!" Sam greeted, waving, although normal telly didn't work that way.

Of course, she reminded herself, this was a dream.

"Sam, what's happening?" Theo panted, looking out of breath. The scene behind him was not to Sam's fancy; a rather large creature, half lion half eagle, was heading strait towards Theo. "Look out!" Sam screamed at Theo, attempting to pound the telly. Instead, her fist went right through it. Theo instinctively grabbed on and Sam pulled him out of the telly and into the living room. Startled at what she had done, it was Theo who had to unplug the telly to prevent the monster from following him. "Are you alright, Theo?" asked Sam, still flabbergasted. Theo nodded, putting in, "Thought I was going to cark it there for a moment. I'm puffed! Thanks, pest." He appreciated her help quietly, and hesitantly pulled her into an embrace.

"Theo... you do know this is a dream, right?"

"Very funny, Sam."

Sam woke up to find herself in the living room in front of the telly, Theo sleeping in the armchair. How strange, she thought to herself.


	2. Imminent Arrival

_All characters except for Jennifer Potter and Bear belong to the wonderful and talented owner of Harry Potter, Joanne Rowling._

_In honour of Annie, this is the beginning for Jen :)_

England, from what Jennifer Potter had collected over her entire eleven years of life spent here, was a dreary and dull place. Nothing interesting ever happened there. It rained constantly, and therefore wasn't a lot of fun. Fortunately, her house was huge. Even though she had explored it a dozen billion times, she never ran out of things to do there.

She lived with her mother, her uncle and aunt, and their son, James. Her uncle, Charlus, was a daft man who spent his time in front of the television, with a beer in one hand and the remote control in the other. Her aunt was busy and independant, always cleaning something and denying help. Her mother wasn't home much; she had work to do out of town, though no-one seemed to know what she did.

That left James. James Potter was similiar to Jen: they both had a mop of long, ebony hair, though Jen's had a slight curl. Brown freckles spread like a plague on their tanned faces. Their eyes were both a chocolate brown with flecks of gold only visible to those who looked. They both had a certain disregard for rules; and lacked the ability to behave themselves. More often that not, they were threatened with being locked inside the house to do chores. But Aunt Dory (or Doria), like they knew, wouldn't let them clean anything.

Most of the time, they played hide-and-seek with James' friend Sirius Black and Jen's friend Alice Simpson. James cheated however, but Jen wasn't sure how. No matter what, he always found her immediately. Maybe it was because they were so much alike; the first place to look that came to James' mind might have been the first place to hide that came to Jen's mind.

Presently, Jen was wandering around with nothing to do. Aunt Dory scrubbed the stove thoroughly and with flourish. Jen was sure that she enjoyed cleaning things, especially filthy things. It gave her great pleasure to accomplish scrubbing away grime and muck. She heard a baseball game coming from the living room (television), as well as the mewing of Jen's attention-craving cat Midnight, who was as dark as Jen's hair but the kitty had a cresent moon on her forehead.

Jen scooped the kitten in her arms, and opened the refrigerator, examined its contents half-heartedly and with distaste. She closed the refridgerator, filled with her mother's creations. She set the kitten down gently, and exited the house through the creaky backdoor. James was outside on the swingset with someone.

They were hunched over a book, chattering excitedly. James' friend had dark curly hair that flopped over his eyes as he nodded his head vigorously. His eyes were full of childish interest. But he was a child. He, like Jen, was eleven years old. He raised his curious eyes to Jen. Chestnut met hazel, and Jen recognized him instantly; Sirius. Jen scurried over.

"Hey Sirius, hey James. What're you guys looking at?" Jen settled beside Sirius, sitting on the bar like her mother had told her a billion times not to. James showed her the book. The expressions on the people's faces were of pain and their skin was full of lumps. "Polyjuice Potion," said James while Sirius beamed. Jen felt her stomach flutter, but she ignored it and looked away from him and to the book. Instantly, she was distracted.

"What's it do?" asked Jen curiously, staring in awe at the paper. There were a list of ingredients, such as the skin of a boomslang and lacewing flies; tricky things to find. Jen was pretty sure their mother would NOT want them looking at it, which made her want to even more. Sirius swallowed painfully, an action noted by Jen. James looked uncomfortable. "It's supposed to turn you into someone else," said James hesitantly. Jen froze, petrified. She shuddered pleasantly at the thought of being someone else. She could do something and get away with it... but a thought struck her: "Isn't that supposed to be Transfiguration and not Potions?"

"I'm not sure. We'll understand soon though," Sirius said simply, rocking back and forth in his swing. Jen gazed at the moving picture of the character twisting in pain. If the audio had been captured, they would have surely heard screaming and groaning. Sirius looked away uncomfortably, but James seemed transfixed. Jen could understand why; it was horribly captivating.

"Hello, all!" a squeaky voice greeted from behind them. Jen whirled around to face the tall, wooden fence. Peter Pettigrew, a boy who lived on the block that Sirius picked on and James had befriended was making their way towards the three of them. "Your mother is coming," said Peter, his voice wheezy from running; his face was ruddy and sweaty.

James slipped the book under the slide, and rocked himself back and forth on the swing. Sirius offered his swing to Jen, who blushed slightly and denied with embarrassed haste. Peter collapsed on the grass, asking what they had found out today. Sirius explained about the Polyjuice Potion in a tabooed whisper while Peter listened intently. Once the story was told, Peter gasped. "Wicked"

Sirius whistled once, and his enormous dog, Bear, appeared at the same gate that Peter had just been. It was black with a pink nose and sharply feral teeth. Another whistle and the dog came bounding towards Jen. Jen knelt down, allowing the dog to lick her hand obsessively- the dog may have looked fierce, but he was a suck-up.

She laughed and petted the Labrador's jet-black, shining coat. Bear barked happily, and chased his tail for a few seconds before becoming distracted by something else- a helicopter seed falling from the great tree in the Potter's back yard. Jen giggled in mirth as she watched the black Lab catch the seed in his mouth only to spit it back out immediately in distaste.

"So," said James to Jen, conversationally. "I hear we're getting neighbours." Jen nodded. She knew this. They were a family of five, with three children, the orginal father, and the stepmother. She had heard Aunt Doria talking about it with Uncle Charlie. "There's a girl our age." James added. Jen raised an eyebrow. "And?" she asked, knowing exactly what James was getting at. "So, they came all the way from Australia with an 11-year old girl."

"We don't even know if she's a witch or not," Jen muttered under her breath, staring into her lap. Sirius collapsed on the ground by the swingset, twiddling with a strand of curly hair. "But it could be." Although Jen couldn't see his mouth, she knew by the voice that it had been, in fact, Sirius who spoke. For one, there wasn't this irritating beeping noises that she got when her sibling spoke.

"And if she is?" asked Peter anxiously. Jen suppressed the urge to snort; he probably didn't even know what they were talking about. That's the thing Jen disliked most about Peter- he was snoopy and tactless. No-one truly liked Peter, no-one but Remus. Jen found herself wishing that Peter had more luck making friends at their new school.

Jen herself was looking forward to the new school. Almost everyone in her family had gone to this school. It was a rather large school, and thousands of children went there. It was well hidden deep in England, and people came from all over the continent to be a part of it. It had the best known staff on record, and the Headmaster himself was a legend.

"Well, I'm going to see what's on the Cube," said Jen, rising from the swing and offering it back to Sirius. He accepted it, and she returned inside. Aunt Doria was mopping the floor as she ran by, and she apologized for her dirty foot prints, rushing upstairs. Behind the dresser she kept a special and dear thing that she had picked up at a "magic" shop.

The Cube of Oraculuk was a three dimensional cube made of two layers; glass and marble. Inside was a dim light that glowed brightly, and Jen often wondered exactly how it worked. She glanced at the surface of the Cube, which remained stationary. Jen bit her lip, and flopped onto her bed, surveying the mess. She'd clean it tomorrow, she supposed.


	3. School Supplies

A/N - Chapter Two was called Imminent Arrival/ Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, I just love it.  
Chapter Three: School Supplies

There was an attic at the new house, which Sam had decided to call her room. The afternoon following their arrival, she was up there rearranging her book collection to fit on the shelf space. When she tripped on a box, she fell against a large wardrobe. Rubbing the spot on her backside where she had taken the blow, her curiosity clicked and she opened the door. There was nothing inside. Pleased that she had found a new storage space, she began to pile her clothes onto the shelves inside. Sam had slept on the floor the night before. Her bed now cleared, she believed she deserved a break. When she got downstairs she rinsed her dusty hands in the sink and got a glass of cold milk from the fridge.

In the sitting room, Theo was zoned into the telly. Some things never changed, but Sam knew that in a few weeks the new couch would have a new arse-mold to accompany Theo's- Raven's. With Sam holed up in her attic, her baby sister had begun to imitate their older brother. Sam feared that it was only a matter of time before Raven's brain was melted and she became a technology zombie like Theo. She made a mental note to take Raven to the park in the near future. It would be good for her to experience the outside world, and good for her father and his wife to spend some time together, even though she did not approve of the latter.

"Samara!" Sam froze. She hadn't heard her full first name since her mother had furiously shouted it the summer before she had died. Taryn had been upset because Sam had left the garden hose unraveled and Raven had hurt herself tripping over it. She turned, half-expecting her mother to come through the doorway, pointing a finger and shaking her head. Of course, that didn't happen. Trying to snap herself out of it, she called back. "Yeah, what did I do?" When there was no answer, she shrugged it off, with the thought in her mind that she must be losing it. With her situation, how could anyone blame her for going bonkers?

"Samara!" Maybe she wasn't crazy. She yelled back, louder this time: "What!" Nora came through the door, her face obscured by a large trunk with Sam's name on it. "I believe this is yours, and there is no need to shout, sweetie." Sam was about to tell Nora not to call her sweetie when curiosity told her to shuttup and take the trunk. She could have sworn she unpacked everything. There was a checklist to make sure. So what could be in the trunk that was apparently hers? Nora dumped it into her outstretched arms. It was very large and rather heavy. "Thanks, Nora." Nora flinched, as she always did when Sam didn't call her "Mom," and told her she was welcome before going back outside.

Sam brought the trunk upstairs, set it on her bed, and observed it. It was painted black, though there were chips in the paint where robin's egg blue showed through. The luggage tag that bore her name was cracked and yellowing, as if it had been saved for her, but for what occasion? Her name was written in a writing she had not seen for years, though it was clearly her mother's loopy and flowing hand. Finally, she couldn't take wondering anymore. She undid the clasps, unzipped, and opened it. The first layer was a row of some sort of uniform.

Considering its weight, there was more in it than just clothes. When she removed a uniform, underneath she found a cauldron. She paused. She was not expecting that. The second uniform unfolded and revealed itself to be a robe with a crest. Looking closer at the crest, she saw a lion, a snake, a badger, and an eagle around an H. The third uniform revealed on odd collection of books, to which Sam had an instant fondness for. She gathered them all in her arms and laid them out over the bed, and began to read to her heart's content.

For hours, Sam was drawn into the wonderful and mysterious world of what the books, full of spells, contained. Magic included, but was not limited to, saying funny words and waving a wand. It included potions like Draught of Living Death, which put you into a sleep so deep that made people would think you were dead. It included items like invisiblity cloaks, flying brooms and talking paintings. It included mythical creatures like unicorns, vampires, and phoenixes. Magic had its own games, like Exploding Snap and Quiddich, both of which she investigated deeply thanks to cliffnotes she recognized as her mother's. These books had been hers. Sam didn't understand.\par

Fascinated by everything she read and desperate to believe there was some kind of world beyond that she belonged to, she ruffled through the rest. She found a little box full of crystal phials, a telescope, and a set of weighting scales resting on what looked like a thick black coat. Unrolling it, she discovered it was a cloak with silver buttons. Sticking out of the pocket were a bundle of what Sam took to be owl feathers and three bottles of ink, a tied sack of strange coins, and an unenveloped letter written in blue on the thick heavy paper she knew to be parchment. The was addressed to her and it was from her mother. She unfolded it and read:

"Dearest daughter,  
You are finally eleven years old, or will be very soon, and it is time I told you the truth. I cannot come overseas because there is much to do for this coming year, and that is why I'll give it to your through youur father. As you know, I am a teacher for special people, but what you don't know is that you are one of those special people. From the moment you were born, I knew you would one day go where I have been, seen what I have seen, and live how I do. You were born at night, and you were terrified of it. You lit up like the moon, my firefly. Have you ever wondered where that nickname came from? Now you know. And now you know that magic exists.

"You are magic and so I am. We are witches. This will be your first year, and I know it will be as scary and wonderful as my first year, but nothing to worry. We, your professors, will teach you all you need to know about the magical world, our secret place. This is your letter of acceptance at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and I will see you when you get here, darling! Love Mom." Below her mother's signature, she read "Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE (Order of Merlin, Second Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, International Confed. of Wizards)."

Sam read it thrice, trying to make sense of it. She was saddened by the way her mother had written it. She must not have known the terrible fate that awaited her. It struck such agony into her core than she fell onto her bed and into tears. She didn't understand the point of giving someone a mother just to take it away. She didn't understand the point of someone trying to take the place of her mother. She didn't understand how someone could be a personal lamp, even as she connected the dots about her nightlight characteristic and what she had done in the dream with Theo. Had her mother really been a witch? Could she really be a witch too? She had so many questions but the one who could answer them all was gone. Unless...

Sam fought the urge to go down the stairs. Her dad was most likely with Nora and it was none of her business why Sam was crying. She wiped her eyes on her sleeve and considered the trunk and its contents. Was someone playing a joke on her? If so, it would most likely be Theo, although he didn't have any money and didn't do much other than watch television. Her dad was not sick enough to put this all together and forge Taryn's writing. And Nora wouldn't dare. But if none of them had done it, and it was really from her mother (there was no mistaking the handwriting) then it could be real. No matter what, she had to know. What living person would tell her that it wasn't a mistake?

"Sam?" That was her father. "Dinner!" She checked her eyes to make sure there was no trace of tears; if anyone would be asking questions, it would be her. She shouted back that she would be there soon and tucked everything but the books back into the trunk, in the reverse order so that the cloak (with the letter) was easily accessible. She organized the books onto her shelf with the others, and for the first time wondered where she was supposed to get a wand. Her name was called again and, reluctantly, she left the attic. Downstairs, Nora and Theo were seated at the table and Dean was gathering a plate. She joined him, filled a bowl with salad and added a few chunks of chicken on top. "No wonder you have no meat on your bones, honey," Nora laughed.

Sam scooped up a couple more, apprehensive, and took the seat next to Raven's high-chair. During the meal, Theo cross-examined Nora with robotic questions from a programme that he had watched. She tried not to be judgemental of her answers, but all of them made her uncomfortable. Her dad had given her the speech of welcoming a new member of the family. And so had her mother. "Treaure your sister, honey. She's precious." and "Be nice to Nora or be grounded." didn't have the same ring to it. But Sam liked the priveledge of reading in nice weather, and if that could be kept by being nice to Nora, she would be nice. Still didn't get her the title.

Theo left the table first and invited Dean to basketball. Sam was finished her dinner shortly after. After putting her plate in the sink, she turned to go back to her room. "Sammy?" Sam paused and turned to Nora. Nora slumped back into herself, clearly unsure of what she was about to say. "Yes, Nora?" inquired Sam. Nora hesitated and Sam gave her a confused look. Nora drew hersellf up with a step forward and folded her arms across her chest. "You don't like Sammy? You flinched when I said Samara." Sam flinched, and remembered flinching. It occured to her that this might be a habit. "Just call me Sam," she replied with a shrug. "Is there something you want to say?" Nora shook her head and retreated. "No." Sam felt suspicion. "Are you sure?"

"Now's not the time. I'll talk to you later." Without another word, Nora left the room and Sam, confused, returned to her room. Did Nora know something she didn't think Sam knew? Immediately Sam's eyes turned to trunk. Nora had given it to her. Sam went back downstairs and took her dad's car keys from the table. She felt a tap on her shoulder and, startled, she turned. "Theo, what are you doing off the couch?" He narrowed his eyes and asked a little too loudly. "Asking why you're taking the keys." Now she had no real right to keep a secret, especially since it was possibly untrue, but she wanted to ask her dad about it first. If Mom had sent it, he would know.

"I'm not taking them, I'm going to ask dad first because I think there might be something else in the car." Theo removed his spectacles and hunched down. He dropped his voice to a whisper and said, "If this is anymore of that dream stuff, count me out." As quickly as he had appeared, he was back on the couch, his eyes vacant and his face expressionless. Sam gave the same partially truthful lines to Dean as she did to Theo. He accepted her story with a question only in his eyes. Nora cut her off completely. "What do you think you've forgotten?" Sam paused and admittted that she really didn't know but if she found it she'd knew that she was looking for it. Nora wanted to question her further. However, it made sense to Dean. "Go ahead, and we'll talk about it later," he said.

Sam gave a confirming nod, and left the room quickly. She wanted no part in Nora and Dean time. She didn't want to know it was happening. She had better things to worry about. Outside, she unlocked the car, and with some difficuly, unlocked the back. There was nothing on the seats, save one of Raven's toys. Looking at it more closely, she saw that the man had the four legs of a horse. Bewildered, she tucked it into her pocket. She examined the back but there was nothing else for her to find. She returned to the house. The door did not open when she twisted the handle. Theo was always locking her out of the house, but this time she unlocked the door and stepped through it.

Nora stood in the doorway, and Sam handed her the keys on the way back upstairs. Raven's new room was the first door at the top of the stairs, and so was the ladder to get into Sam's attic. Before pulling the string for the ladder, she snuck quietly into the room. The light was off and Sam cracked the door to find Raven's sleeping figure. Sam found the toybox with her shin and clasped a hand over her mouth to keep hself quiet. Raven stirred, but not for long. Taking short breaths, she reached into it and found the marble bag her mother had left for Raven. She carefully exited the room, sure to not knock her tender places off anything else lurking about. She pulled the string, ascended the ladder, and, once on her own floor, pulled the ladder up with her, just in case.

In her own room, she dumped the open bag over her bed and examined each of the toys. She could name most of the these unique beasts and knew they mostly existed in myths and fantasy stories. Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander told her that the man with horse legs was called a centaur, and the beast that had chased Theo was the easily offended Hippogriff. Although it was hard to imagine an animal having feelings, if paintings could move and talk, unicorns and hippogriffs could certainly be prideful if they wanted to, she supposed. Head filled with knowledge of what she thought to be impossible, Sam took the miniature fantastic beasts in her hands and set them on the shelf above her bed, in front of her books. She lied down on her bed and dreamed, again, of flying.


	4. Floo Powder

A/N: Hp isn't mine, but I wish it was.  
Chapter 4, Floo Powder

Sam drifted amoung the clouds. She heard her name but she did not want to return to her gravity-bound body. Instead she soared higher, all the while knowing that in reality she was going nowhere. She heard her name again in such a faint whisper it was hard to tell the gender of the caller. It did not matter though because she did not want to go back.

She had gone very far now. Below her was a colossal castle with viaducts and turrets, and she lowered herself to perch on the grounds before it. Then she changed, from bird to human, and knocked on the enormous wooden door. Her mother answered it, and both faces broke out into identical grins. "You have arrived!" her mother welcomed warmly.

Sam took her mother's hand and was pulled into the castle. The entrance hall was enormous and could have fit a house inside. Flaming torches were mounted on the stone walls and a grand marble staircase led to the upper floors. Sam stood in awe, knowing she had just set foot, if not literally, in Hogwarts. Her mother was still smiling.

"Yes, it really is something, isn't it?" Taryn mused, also looking astonished. Sam nodded, bewildered and speechless. "What would you like to see first? We could go to the dormitory. You'll probably be in Ravenclaw, too. Or we could go to the Great Hall, where you will attend the feasts and speeches on those sorts of occasions..."

Sam wasn't listening. Sam was being pulled back. She didn't want to leave, but she knew shehad to. "Bye, Mother!" she bidded. Her mother frowned as she faded, and her father stood before her at the end of her bed, the look on his face a cause for concern. Sam sat up immediately. "G'morning... What's wrong?" she asked, noting his puzzled expression. He shook his head.

"Nothing, it's time for breakfast." Sam slid out of bed obediently, also noting that he had never come up to her attic in the old house. Nora had always been the one to fetch her and bring her downstairs in the morning. She descended the ladder after him and followed him down into the kitchen, where Theo and Raven already sat at the table, eating cereal.

"Where's Nora?" Sam inquired, her eyes flickering to the empty living room. Her father paused, and shared a meaningful glance with Theo. "She wasn't here when I woke up," he explained, and Sam, confused, took a thoughtful bite. She wondered where Nora could have gone. Mostly, she looked after Raven while her father was at work. What else did Nora do?

Sam decided not to worry about it. Instead she enjoyed the peace of a Nora-free environment. She ate her breakfast without being stared at, and after she watched some television with Theo, but it was more for Theo's company than for the telly. She sat beside him, where he sat in his usual spot, and beckoned with a conspiratory whisper. "Theo!"

"What?" he implored, annoyed, eyes still fixed on the screen. He had not bothered to lower his voice and she shushed him by waving her hand. "I saw Mother," she said quietly. Still, he did not turn to her. "Mom's dead," said he emotionlessly. Sam bit her lip. "Yeah, but I saw her." Now Theo turned to her, his eyes misty beneath his glasses and his face a mask of rage.

"Stop it, okay? It doesn't matter if you dreamed about her or not, even with your freaky powers, because she's dead." He took ahold of her shoulders and shook. "Do you understand?" Sam wrenched herself from his grip and got off the couch in a huff. If Theo wouldn't believe her about Taryn, he wouldn't believe that she was a witch. It was time to talk to her father.

She went upstairs to the attic to change yesterday's clothes, the ones she fell asleep in. When she opened the wardrobe, she found that it was empty. She closed the door and opened it again, and there were her clothes. In one of her books, she had found a section on Vanishing Cabinets. There were two to a set, and if her clothes weren't here, they were in the other one.

She fastened her hair into a ponytail with a hair band she kept around her wrist. From her trunk, she took the letter her mother had written her and tucked it into her overalls. She found her father outside in the garden where, as promised, a macadamia nut tree had been planted. Her father beamed when he saw her outside, for the first time since they'd arrived in London.

"You like it?" he asked, gesturing to the arrangement of flowers on the trellis. She smiled, though it was not the topic she wanted to discuss. "Oh yes, it's lovely," she said without consideration. He bowed and thanked her. She pulled out the letter and hid it behind her back. Her father noticed the look on her face, and he stopped watering his garden. "Yes?" he inquired.

Sam took a deep breath and handed him the letter. He read it over once, a pained expression on his face. When he looked back at Sam, his eyes were filled with tears. He handed back the letter and requested that she accompany him inside. He led her to the kitchen table, and he took a deep breath. Simply he said, "Your mother is right. You are going to Hogwarts on September 1st."

"I am?" Sam inquired, estatic. Dean nodded to confirm. "Did you get your trunk?" Sam nodded and explained that all of her school supplies were taken care of except a wand. He nodded again. "Your wand has to choose you," he said. "Which means I'm going to have to ask the neighbours to bring you to Diagon Alley." Sam blinked. Neighbours? Diagon Alley? Dean stood. "Let's go."

Sam didn't have to be told twice. She was out the door before he was. She followed him to the mannor beside their rickety house and he knocked three times on the door. Moments later, it opened and a scrawny girl Sam's age stood there. Sam suspected her elbow-length black hair had never been cut. She removed her spectacles and blinked twice at Sam. "In," she ordered abruptly. Sam obeyed.

The house was bigger inside than out. The spacious rooms were painted white, giving a feeling of reverse-claustrophobia. The high ceilings were accented with wooden beams, and no fewer than six owls sat uptop. Sam, who had only dreamed about owls, held out a hand hungrily towards them. A great tawny one flew immediately down to land on her outstretched fingers. A couple more followed.

"I knew you were a witch, too!" the spectacled girl was muttering to herself. She kept walking, not noticing that Sam had stopped. She walked up to the fireplace, took the flowerpot from the mantlepiece, and finally looked back for Sam. "Hey!" she shouted, and the owls dispersed. "That's funny. They usually don't come down to socialize. They must like you, Sam. I'm Jen, by the way. Jen Potter."

"How do you know my name, and where did my father go?" demanded Sam, joining the spectacled girl, Jen, at the fireplace. Jen took the only flowerpot from the mantlepiece and eyed Sam curiously. "Your mum knew mine, and your dad asked me to bring you to get your wand. Mum sincerely distrustful of Muggles, though. The enchantment must have sent him away."

"Enchantment?" Sam repeated. Jen nodded, and explained, "Mum cast a spell on the house. Any Muggle who tries to enter forgets why they were here and wanders off. Don't worry though," she added, noting Sam's alarmed expression, "He'll be alright. He's probably home." She took a fistful of the glittering dust that was in the flowerpot and threw it into the fireplace. Emerald flames suddenly towered.

"Keep your eyes closed and your elbows tucked in," Jen warned, and she took Sam by the arm and pulled her into the flames. "Diagon Alley!" Jen shouted, and Sam felt like herself spinning like a top. She wanted to plug her ears- the roar of flames was making her deaf- but she followed Jen's advice and kept her elbows at her sides. Cold wind slapped her in the face, and she collided with a stone floor. 


	5. The Wonderful World of Magic

_A/N; I don't own Harry Potter :'( including Diagon Alley and all its contents. Oh, plus the car._

Chapter Five, The Wonderful World of Magic

Sam massaged her forehead and Jen helped her up. They brushed off the dirt and excess Floo powder off their clothes.

"I should have told you to protect your face," Jen realized apologetically. Sam shrugged it off, though she winced. She wanted to tell Jen not to worry about it but by the time she found the words, her thoughts were elsewhere. They had been spit out of the chimney of a fantastic book store.

Sam was so happy she could cry. She rushed off before Jen had said another word and she could hear the spectacled girl giggling to herself as Sam swiped the nearest book and began reading. Sam had finished reading a few chapters of Emeric Switch's _A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_, a book she hadn't gotten to at home, when Jen asked Sam to help her find the books they would need this term.

"I reckon you love libraries," Jen mused, rifling through the shelf. Sam shook her head, handing Jen a copy of _Magical Theory_ from the bookcase over.

"I don't go to the library. I have my own books," she answered. She turned to find _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_ when a witch in purple crashed into her, and the towers of books in each of their arms toppled over. The girl, exasperated, apologized and bent down to help Sam. Once the stacks had been restored, the girl smiled, completely at ease. Sam introduced heself and Jen.

Jen waved when she heard her name, and asked the girl, "Where'd you get _The Dark Forces_ book?" _The Dark Forces: A Guide To Self-Protection_ was the last item on the list that Jen needed. The girl pointed to the other side of the store. She set the stack down gently and flounced off to the bookshelf nearest to the door.

Sam looked through the window next to the door. Through the glass, Sam could see cobblestone streets with even more wizards in robes. Across the street was a pet shop. The sign read Eyelop's Owl Emporium, and a few bats were hanging from it. She nudged Jen and pointed to it, balancing Jen's stack carefully with the other hand.

"Can we go there next?"

Jen nodded. She placed another book on the stack and Sam swooped to make sure it didn't tumble over again.

"If you get an owl, keep it away from Midnight. She likes to chase birds." Noting the dumbfounded look on Sam's face, Jen explained that Midnight was the kitten her mum had given her for her eleventh birthday.

"What did your mum get you?" Sam froze at the question. Besides her family, including Nora, Sam didn't know anyone who knew her mother was dead.

"My birthday is in December," Sam answered simply and truthfully, and left it at that. Jen did, too, thankfully.

"Hello, again." The witch in purple had returned with the book and handed it to Jen. She called herself Astrid and offered a calloused hand, which Sam and Jen each shook in turn. Jen paid for her books, dumped them in a large black bag and handed Sam the extra bag she had bought. Sam slung it around her shoulder. Astrid bought a bag of her own and accompanied Jen and Sam across the street.

Eyelop's Eye Emporium smelled of guano and canned food. Cages of toads and cats were stacked on shelves. Owls of every shape and size drifted amoung the rafters, occasionally diving for a few spare mice that the lady who would be behind the counter was chasing with an empty cage in hand.

"_Immobulus_!" she shouted, pointing a wand. The mice froze in mid-scamper, and the lady scooped them into the cage.

"What are you looking for, dears?" she asked kindly, setting the mice cage on a nearby shelf and returning to the counter. Astrid was already wandering off and Jen asked if they could have a few minutes to look around. The shop keeper told them to take their time and picked up a newspaper. Sam saw the picture on the front page was moving. Bewildered, she asked if she could have a look at it.

"Once I'm done reading, give me a Knut and it's yours," the shop keeper haggled. Sam accepted and went off to look at owls. Several swooped by her head, and for a couple of them she had to duck to avoid collision, but none really caught her attention as much as a snowy white owl.

She read the ribbon tied around it's neck: "Name: Flake, Gender: Male, Species: half snow/ half barn." When she looked close to the owl's eyes, she saw that the pupil was yellow and the iris was black. This was definitely the one for her.

Sam offered an arm, and he hopped onto her elbow. She walked him back the counter.

"How much is he?" she asked the shop keeper, holding up her arm. The shop keeper was handing little bronze coins to Astrid, who had a parrot on her shoulder.

"One Galleon and three Sickles." Sam, who had no idea what Sickles were, pulled out the drawstring back she had pocketed. She dumped all the coins on the desk. The shop keeper counted three of the silver ones and one gold one. Sam made a mental note and tucked the remaining coins back into the drawstring back, which returned to her pocket.

"Are you sure you want him, dear?" the shop keeper asked. She pressed a button on the register and the drawer popped open. She hovered Sam's change above the slots, regarding her with concern. "He's blind, after all. Galloping gargoyles, I don't even know if he can deliver post."

Sam raised the owl closer to her face. Flake nipped her nose in affection and Sam smiled.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Where is and how much is food?" The shop keeper requested for three Galleons. Sam handed her a few gold coins and the shop keeper disappeared into the back. Flake hopped off Sam's arm and flew around. Sam observed him with the thought in her mind that the owl could not see. Yet, he dodged every obstacle as easily as if he had X-ray vision to boot.

Flake perched on her head. Jen eyed him, tossing a large stuffed brown owl in the air. Sam had a feeling that stuffie would soon be a chew toy. Better that than an actual owl, she supposed.

The shop keeper returned, hauling a large and bulky brown bag that was as tall as Sam's knees. She tapped the bag twice and murmured something Sam couldn't hear then, effortlessly, raised it to the counter.

"The spell wears off in two hours, so get where you're going in a hurry," the shop keeper advised. Sam, by the process of elimination, had figured out the little bronze ones were Knuts. She handed one to the shop keeper, who handed over the newspaper. With that, the three young witches headed out the door. Sam turned to thank her but the shop keeper had vanished. Sam rolled up the newspaper.

"Sam and I are in need of wands," announced Jen. Sam stared; was there anything Jen didn't know?

"I haven't got mine either," said Astrid. Down the street they went. Sam and Astrid occasionally stopped to admire, for example, shiny broomsticks in the window of one store or glittering bug eyes in the window of another. It wasn't too long before Jen started to get annoyed.

"Keep up, will you? I'd swear you two are related with the matching attention spans you have." Sam considered this a compliment. She found the beauty in ordinary things, and now that she was surrounded by extraordinary things, she wished she had all the time in the world and one of everything. Even the lightness of the bag thrilled her, since it should have needed at least two people, instead of one hand, to carry it.

When they reached the shop that had Ollivander's sign on it, they wasted no time in entering the narrow and shabby place. Inside was a desk and long, skinny boxes on thousands of towering shelves. A tinkling bell announced their arrival and without further ado, a wrinkled old man with shining eyes stood before them.

"Ah, another Potter," the man said to Jen, his voice soft as owl feathers. "Tell me, Jennifer, why is it you didn't accompany James? Mahogany and phoenix feather. Eleven inches. Pliable. It will serve him well in Transfiguration." This made Jen flinch though she didn't answer. The man turned to Sam and she could see her distorted reflection in his silvery eyes.

"Your mother's wand was unusually short, only five and a quarter inches. Birch and dragon heartstring. Delightfully springy." Sam felt a little strange, not quite sick, but not quite well. Mr Ollivander remembered her mother. Accurately, he remembered her wand, but still...

"Which is your wand arm?" Sam let go of the enormous bag and raised her right arm, hoping the hand she wrote with would suffice. From nowhere, a tape measure with silver markings appeared from the man's pocket. Sam was measured from shoulder to finger, wrist to elbow, between her eyes, and around each of her fingers.

"We use phoenix tail feathers, dragon heartstring and unicorn hairs. No two Ollivander's wands are the same. There is exactly one wand for everyone and we ask that each of you takes care of the one that chooses you." The tape measure was taking Jen's measurements by itself. As he was talking, Mr Ollivander was zipping around the room, taking down three randonly selected boxes from each shelf.

"Wave one. If it doesn't work for you, pass it along." Jen took a wand out of the box and waved it. There was a shattering sound and immediately Jen dropped the wand, hastily apologizing. Mr OIlivander took the wand from the floor and took it back to his desk, to be polished, was Sam's thought.

The measuring tape finished taking Astrid's lengths and joined Mr Ollivander at his desk. Jen took another and waved it, eyes shut tight. Nothing happened, so she passed it to Sam. Sam, feeling foolish, gave it a wave. Nothing. She passed it to Astrid, who waved. Nothing.

And it went on like that for what felt like hours. Finally, when Sam passed a wand that had rejected her to Astrid, an ultra-violet swirl shot from the tip and and shards of glass on the floor, from whatever Jen had broken with her first failed attempt, reformed itself into a pot.

"Yew. Unicorn hair. Six and a half inches. Quite bendy." Astrid paid seven gold Galleons for the wand and told them she would wait outside. Sam, waving another wand, envied her and wished that Mr Ollivander would crack a window.

Jen waved and Sam waved. Neither of them knew what they were waiting for. Mr Ollivander, on the other hand, seemed thrilled for the company. There was a bounce in his step as he placed the unchoosing wands back on the shelves and brought them new ones.

While he wasn't looking, Jen immediately passed the wand she had been given. When Sam questioned her, Jen said that the wand "just didn't feel right in her hands". It fit wonderfully in Sam's. She waved. She was greeted by cool bursts of air that were refreshing and relaxing.

Seeing Sam's hair blowing about while the rest of the air was dry and stuck, Mr Ollivander appeared before her.

"Willow. Dragon heartstring. Nine and a quarter inches. Rather posable," he recited, placing the wand back in the box. Sam handed over seven gold coins, was given her wand, and waited for Jen. Each time she broke something, Mr Ollivander repaired it immediately and passed her another wand.

Finally, "Oak and phoenix feather. Eight inches. Nice and supple." Seven more Galleons and a couple of thank-you's later, the girls were out the door, Sam dragging the owl food with her. By this time, Astrid and the parrot were gone.

"I have an idea," said Jen, a michevious twinkle in her eye. Sam swallowed, but allowed herself to be led out of Diagon Alley and onto a wide and bare expanse of grass. There was no-one around and Jen, it seemed, sought comfort in this. She pulled out a book, _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1_.

It occured to Sam that Jen hadn't put away her wand. She had shoved the empty box in her bag, and the wand had been up her sleeve. Now she held it firmly and motioned for Sam to do the same. Hesitantly, but curiously, Sam took out her wand.

"We aren't allowed to do magic outside of school," said Jen, and Sam was alarmed. She wanted to put her wand away, but Jen put a hand on her elbow, stopping her and continued, "We have one day left of summer until it really counts. We could practice some spells, get a bit of a headstart, and nobody has to know." There was a grin on her lips that Sam didn't like.

"Isn't that sort of cheating? What if something happens?" worried Sam- she, unlike Jen, wanted to be taught how to use magic, and to not find out the hard way.

"_Wingardium leviosa_," said Jen, and she swished and flicked her wand at Sam, who started to ascend. Terrified yet elated, she hovered a few feet in the air and found that when she kicked her legs, she floated backwards. Jen performed the same spell on herself and soon the two of them were giggling as they rose.

"I'll race you to the other end of the pitch!" Jen flapped her arms and she looked ridiculous. She bobbed and nearly flipped over. Sam, fighting to breathe beneath the laughter, showed her the proper way, almost like swimming. Her dreams of flying were not only coming true, but coming in handy. Flake circled above and they lost any sense of time. Jen noticed only when it was getting dark.

"Let's go," Jen suggested. Sam, reluctant, landed. Jen had some difficulty, so Sam grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her to the ground. The owl food bag had become heavy again and Jen helped Sam carry it. The two were still laughing when they made it to Flourish & Blotts', the book store in which they had arrived. It was almost empty. Jen bought a flower pot filled with powder.

Sam automatically stood in the fireplace. Jen joined her, threw a handful of powder in, yelled, "Potter house," and soon the two bright, young witches were spinning again.

The next morning, Sam woke with a start. She had been, as usual, dreaming of flying but suddenly she fell. She didn't know what had knocked her from the air, but her jolt had startled Flake, who was flapping around the room madly.

Sam called him, holding out an arm. He landed gracefully. She stroked his cheek with a finger, and he nipped it a little harder than he had bit her nose and hooted loudly. It dawned on her that she hadn't given him any food. She got out of bed, went over to the ladder, and lowered it to the floor below hers. Flake flew out of the opening before Sam even set a foot on the ladder. She heard a woman screaming on the main floor; Nora was back.

Sam could hear Nora shouting in exasperation. "Why is that owl in the house?" Sam rushed down the ladder and down the stairs. In the kitchen, Flake was hovering around Nora's head. Without warning, white goo exited him and landed on Nora's shoulder. Sam called him again and he perched on her head.

"He's not trained yet," Sam explained, going over to the stove and handing Nora a cloth from the sink. Flake hooted thrice, and to Sam it sounded like giggling. She fought to urge to smirk.

"You better train it then," Nora growled, wiping guano from the sleeve of her blouse. "Or it's going to end up in the oven." Flake let out a sound that resembled a hiss and flew out of the open window. Sam doubted that the bird was really blind.

"You're up early," said Nora conversationally, dropping the dirty rag straight into the garbage pail, but after she had threatened the new pet, Sam didn't feel like talking much to her. She shrugged and went out the front door without another word. On the porch, she called for her owl but he didn't return. She lowered herself to sit on the stairs.

"Are you all packed?" Sam turned to see Jen behind the fence next door. She was already in her robes and completely disregarded the strange looks the Muggles across the street were giving her. Sam nodded. When she had gotten home the night before, she requested the letter back from her father and put it (and her wand) in her trunk. Her books were also in there, ready to go.

"We could leave now," Jen suggested, adjusting her spectacles anxiously. Sam told Jen of this morning's incident with Nora. Jen laughed at Nora's misfortune (Sam did, too) and joined her on the stairs, awaiting the owl's return. Dean arrived before the owl did. He pulled into the driveway in a shiny turquoise Ford Angelia.

"Do you like it?" Sam said nothing; he really did not want to know what she thought. Jen asked him if he was having a mid-life crisis and her serious tone made Sam break down. The girls collapsed into giggle fits.

"I suppose you don't want a ride to King's Cross then. Have fun walking," her father teased them. Jen apologized hastily, but Sam raised an eyebrow. "You're bluffing."

"Yeah," her father agreed. Sam checked her watch- it was barely eight. They had plenty of time. She excused herself so she could go get her trunk and put it in the car. When she returned to the kitchen with it, her father and Jen were at the table, drinking orange juice. Sam had forgotten about breakfast, which confused her. She usually never forgot about breakfast. She set the trunk by the door, made herself a bowl of cereal, and joined them at the table.

"Nine and three quarters?" Dean was saying. Jen nodded, taking a swig of juice.

"On the other side of the wall is the actual platform. You just run at the barrier if you're nervous and you'll go right through it," said Jen. The Chandrees listened attentively. Sam was delighted to find her father was just as amazed as she was. "Well, you won't. Muggles will crash right into it." Dean made a face.

At ten-thirty, Jen went next door to get her trunk while Sam loaded hers into the car.


	6. Marauders

_A/N: Hp belongs to Jk Rowling, and so does the Hogwarts Express, McGonagall, Dumbledore, Hagrid, James, Remus, Sirius and Peter._

Chapter 6, the Maradeurs

King's Cross was crouded with wizards and Muggles alike. They bustled down the busy paths with their trunks on trolleys, trying to find the plastic sign that matched the number on his or her ticket. Sam squinted at her own ticket, which had been brought to her by owl. The Hogwarts Express left at exactly eleven o'clock, which gave her twenty minutes to find platform nine and three quarters, if it did exist.

"There's a misprint on my ticket," Sam spoke up. She handed it to Jen, and she compared the ticket with her own. She gave it back, along with a passive shrug, still leading the way. She stopped Sam in front of a barrier, a plastic "9" on the left and a plastic "10" on the right.

"That's no misprint," Jen's cousin James claimed. He showed her his own ticket, and the platform was unmistakable. She had met James only this morning, and it was hard to believe that he and Jen were not twins. They even shared the same ideas and thoughts! But this twin magic, Sam felt, was nothing compared to what was going to happen at Hogwarts, if she ever did, indeed, get there.

"How do we get onto the platform?" Sam wanted to know. James and Jen grinned identically. Jen leaned casually on the barrier. With a wink, she disappeared through the wall, bringing the trolley with her trunk along. James backed up with his trolley, and ran for it. Had it been a normal wall, he would have crashed. Instead, he and his trolley also disappeared. Sam, alone and alarmed, rolled the trolley with Flake's travelling cage and her school trunk over to the barrier. She raised her fist to knock on the gateway, but when she should have felt brick, the wall swallowed her hand. She pulled it back quickly, feeling Muggle eyes on her. When she was sure nobody was looking, she leaned against the barrier and tilted herself backwards as Jen had done.

"Well done," James appraised. Behind him was a great scarlet engine with a long tail of passenger cars. Jen was already inside. She stood in the door, holding her trunk in one hand and frantically waving with the other. Sam took her trunk and owl off of the trolley and caught up with Jen. James, behind her, went the opposite way, saying he was looking for a friends. Most of the compartments were already full. With every door that Jen opened and closed again, Sam was a little more discouraged. When Jen finally found empty seats, they introduced themselves to the girl while loading their trunks on the rack above.

"Ginger," said the girl, holding out a hand. "Ginger Vaughn Lor." Sam sat down, next to Jen and across from the girl. Sam was thinking that a girl named Ginger should have red hair and freckles. This girl was dark-haired and pale, though there was a bit of blush to her cheeks. She was already wearing the Hogwarts uniform, the black robes. Beside her was a large cage that housed an upside-down screeching bat. Ginger opened the cage, and the bat hopped onto an outstretched finger. He travelled along the length of her arm and snuggled into her elbow.

"Onyx isn't used to people. He doesn't go outside during the day," Ginger laughed, delightedly stroking its underbelly. Flake fluffled his wings and made a fierce hissing sound. It reminded Sam of the way he had hissed at Nora this morning when Flake had unloaded on her blouse and she had threatened to shove him in the oven. Jen grumbled about her kitten; James had tried a Vanishing Spell on her. It had worked.

Sam and Ginger's laughter to this amusing story was interrupted by a knock on the compartment door. Sam, closest to, opened it to find a bright-faced girl who should have been named Ginger and a greasy, poorly-dressed boy with a hooked nose sallow skin. The girl asked if they could join her, since everywhere else was full. Sam opened the door wider and waved them in.

"That's Jen." She pointed to her friend and Jen waved, smiling. "That's Ginger." Ginger bowed her head at the two new entries. "And I'm Sam," she introducted herself.

"I'm Lily," the red-haired girl returned, shaking hands. They boy introduced himself as Severus Snape and did not offer his hand to anyone. Lily took the seat beside Sam and Snape sat next to the bat cage.

Jen watched Snape as he watched Ginger. Ginger and Lily were talking about their parents, who were Muggles. Lily didn't see the disgusted look on her friend's face when she said she hadn't know about magic until her letter arrived in the mail. Sam piped up that living with her father and step-mother, she hadn't known about magic either. Jen and Snape had known about magic their entire lives.

"I'd like to understand," Snape confronted coldly, "how a vampire was accepted at Hogwarts." Ginger froze, and Lily glared at her friend.

"That's a terrible thing to say!" Lily shouted, affronted. Snape shifted under her stare and turned away. Ginger hung her head. She put her index finger against a tooth, pressed, and held it up. It was bleeding. She flicked the cut with her tongue and held it up again. The pad of her finger had a tiny scab.

"We drink phoenix blood," she explained. Snape, revolted, briskly stood and exited the compartment without another word. Lily stood, apologized, and followed her friend.

"Don't mind him," Jen waved a hand to gesture at the boy who had just left. "There's a lot of judgemental people out there," she assured with a grin.

"I don't bite," Ginger vowed, giving them a gloomy and shy smile. She offered a pinky. Sam took it and locked it. Ginger offered the pinky to Jen. Jen shook her head, holding up a hand. "It's okay, I trust you."

Ginger relaxed, but only slightly. Another knock on the compartment door stiffened her back again. Sam, still closest, opened it. A squat witch clad in merry pink greeted her. She asked if anyone wanted anything, nodding to the packages on the trolley she was pushing. Sam asked her to wait a moment. While Sam rummaged through her trunk for coins, Jen bought a box of beans and some chocolates. Ginger purchased a pumpkin pasty. Sam looked at the junk food littering the cart and asked for the beans and a licorice wand.

"Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans?" she read from the box. Jen had already opened hers and was in the process of eating toffee-coloured one.

"Coffee," she said. She offered, "Try a few, see what you get." Sam took a small handful. She bit into another coffee-coloured one, which turned out to be peanut butter. Sam was enjoying herself until she got a mouthful of tuna. She spat it out and put it by Flake, who gobbled it. The other flavours included, but was not limited to: lemon, ink, steak, basil, raspberry, candle wax and copper. Sam made a mental note to bring some back home for Theo, to make him see that not all magic was dangerous.

Jen opened one of her chocolates. A frog jumped out and landed on the window. She captured it and stuffed it into her mouth. Sam could see the frog struggling against her cheeks.

"Chocolate Frogs- it's a spell," she said carelessly, noting Sam and Ginger's horrified expressions. She offered them each one and both refused. Jen took out a card from the Chocolate Frog package.

" 'Minerva McGonagall,' " she read. " 'Duputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, famed for her excellent discovery in transfiguration in 1941. Minerva McGonagall was the first witch, or wizard, to turn an inanimate object into an animal. She has been the Transfiguration professor at Hogwarts since Albus Dumbledore's promotion to Headmaster in 1949. Professor McGonagall is head of the school house Gryffindor. ' " The picture was of a middle-aged woman wearing a pointed hat over a black bun, square glasses and a stern face. Jen pocketed the card.

"Is it alright if I change my mind?" Ginger asked bravely. Though it was clear she did not have a taste for chocolate, even if it was moving, she was interested in the cards. Jen passed her a sizable stack of Frogs. She took the licorice wand in her hand and pointed to the boxes. She tapped the top one and said, "Immobulus," as the shop-keeper chasing the mice had done. When she opened the box, the frog was stationary. Ginger passed the chocolate to Sam, who instantly consumed it, and Ginger silently read her card. Jen, proud of herself, took a satisfied bite of the wand. Sam had a feeling that it wouldn't cast anymore spells.

"You two had better change," Ginger advised. "It can't be much longer until we get there, can it?" She covered her face with her hands as Sam and Jen, backs to each other, got into their robes. As is turned out, the vampire girl was right. No sooner than when Sam and Jen sat down, fully robed, the train began to slow.

Night had fallen. Outside, Sam could see the ghostly silhouette of a forest surrounding a dark lake. She gulped with difficultly; this was the lake that had taken her mother from her. The harmlessly still surface, almost like glass, was the reason for her lonliness.

"Hey!" Jen called. Sam snapped out of it, instantly replacing her somber expression for a content one. "We're here; unicorns and unibrows, be excited!"

Ginger blinked. " 'Unicorns and unibrows' ?" she repeated. Jen did not have to answer, however, because a deep, male voice was calling all first years to get off the train. Sam, Jen and Ginger pocketed their remaining sweets, hauled their trunks off of the rack and exited the compartment. The traffic in the halls was a nightmare; the girls were separated almost instantly. When Sam stepped off the train, she saw a mop of ebony hair, but the student turned out to be James. A curly haired boy with a michevious grin and a round pale boy with a rat-like face accompanied him.

"Ah, Sam," James greeted. He placed a guiding hand on her shoulder and directed her to shake hands with the curly haired "Sirius", as he introduced himself. The other called himself "Peter". James asked if she was looking for Jen, and she nodded because she was. He pointed to the lake. "She's probably already in a boat."

In that instant, Sam realized her worst fear. "We have to go across the lake to get the castle," she realized aloud, her stomach sinking horribly. She followed the boys over to the lake. They found an assembly of boats along the shore, and Astrid sitting in an other-wise empty one. She took a deep breath and thought things through before climbing into the seat across from Astrid. James, Sirius and Peter did not join them- they had their own boat, shared with a student in tattered robes.

"No more'n four to a boat!" The deep voice that had summoned them off the train belonged to an enormous man, his face hidden by his hair and a wildly tangled beard. He waved at the stragglers and once everyone was all set, the motorless boats took off towards their destination without any prompting from their sailors. Magic, thought Sam. Great stuff. Everyone was silent, staring in awe at the great castle ahead. Sam could see towers, turrets, bridges and viaducts, and she just new she was going to be lost, even with a map.

"Heads down!" the man yelled. Sam ducked her head to avoid the curtain of ivy. From the corner of her eye, she could see a flash of blinding light. Astrid let out a yelp and Sam felt the boat rock beneath her. Eyes closed and stinging, she was thrown into the water. Cold clung to her and sealed off her lungs as she went under. She reminded herself that she shouldn't panic and reached up. She heard a splash and at the same time, she felt something slimy take a hold of her ankle. Daring to open her eyes, a gigantic squid flooded her vision. She screamed her last breath before being pulled down...

Something else grabbed both of her wrists and pulled harder than the creature of the lake. Sam was thrashing, trying to free herself, while she could see the reflection of a cresent moon on the lake's surface above her. In the center of the moon, there was a boy- the third friend of James' that she hadn't been introduced to. He pulled her onto the shore. Despite the sharp rocks cutting into her back, Sam didn't care. She was breathing, and that's what mattered.

"Y-you saved me," Sam gasped, her attention turning to the boy. His eyes were kind and sad.

"You would have drowned," he replied simply, as if it had been his duty to rescue her. He stood and held out his hand. When Sam took it, she felt a jolt of something she couldn't describe. He raised her onto her feet. She rung out her braids and robes, stammering her thanks. He smiled and Sam, feeling oddly warm for a moment, smiled back.

"Anytime."


	7. One of the Four

_A/N: Hogwarts and its students aren't my property. Thank you JK Rowling for giving me a hobby._

_& thank you prongster for pointing out the spelling mistake. I'm sure the Marauders would roll over in their graves if I continued mispelling their legacy. Anyway, where was I? ... Oh yes._

Chapter 7, One Of The Four

The girl that Remus had saved called herself Sam. Her shoulder-length blonde hair was done in two braids that picked up the reflected light of the stars. Her eyes reminded him of the sea at twilight, an illuminating blue with violet. As the two of them made their way up to the castle, she noticed he was limping.

"Are you alright?" Sam wondered. Her brow was furrowed with concern. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

Remus shook his head as they ascended the stairs. He held the door for her and followed her through it. Although he had seen Hogwarts in photographs, given to him by his father, it was a whole other experience to be there. Sam, still smiling, said, "It's beautiful. It looks like the dream."

Remus, in awe, followed Sam through a giant archway. The room had an artificial ceiling of candles and the tall walls led to the sky. The room was taken up by four long tables that seated the thousands of students and they led to the teacher's table. The group of first years, including each of their group of friends, was gathered at the front by a stern-faced professor that Sam recognized as McGonagall. Remus and Sam hastened to join, trying to go unseen for the time being.

"You will place the Sorting Hat on your head and it will tell you where to go," McGonagall explained.

"Aubrey, Bertram." A spindly straw-haired boy stepped out of line and sat on the stool that McGonagall stood by. The brim of the Sorting Hat sunk past his eyes as the students waited for... whatever they probably weren't expecting. A wide rip near the bottom opened and through it, a word was shouted: "RAVENCLAW!" The second table from the left exploded with applause and Bertram Aubrey stumbled to join them.

"Avery, Austin."

"SLYTHERIN!" The second table from the right clapped and welcomed their new student with a clap on the back, grins and whoops.

"Black, Sirius." James' curly haired friend reluctantly made for the stool. He looked back and Jen waved encouragingly. Remus crossed his fingers, hoping Sirius would break the infamous family tradition.

"GRYFFINDOR!" Sirius joined the students seated at the far left table and grinned back at his pals with relief. Astrid, whose last name was Burbora, was sorted into Hufflepuff.

"Chandree, Samara." Sam flinched. Remus nodded towards the Hat and Sam stepped forward. She sat on the stool upon the instructions of McGonagall and felt the weathered old hat fall onto her head. There was a pause. The noises of the Great Hall were muffled and she felt, for a moment, deaf.

"Hello, daugher of Taryn," said a tiny voice in her ear. Sam nearly jumped up but settled herself, remembering that her mother had attended Hogwarts and was therefore familiar with the Hat.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" The shout resounded in her head as she made her way to the table on the far right. Her fellow Hufflepuffs were cheering and Sam settled with them in pride.

Names were called and students were sorted, but Sam hardly paid attention. She and Astrid had begun to chat about the possibilities of their new life. A few of the older students asked them to pipe down and they heard-

"Evans, Lilian."

"GRYFFINDOR!" Applause rang out through the cavern-like and spacious room.

"Invertigus, Grady," was sorted into "RAVENCLAW!" and "L'amour, Hayden," went to "SLYTHERIN!"

"Lupin, Remus." Sam moved to the edge of her seat as her saviour sat upon the stool. The Sorting Hat barely touched him before it screamed, "GRIFFINDOR!" Sam was disappointed he had not been sorted into her house but thankful he would be, at least, with his friend Sirius.

More names and houses were called. Sam, who was now fidgeting, leaned over to a student who looked like he was in his third year at least.

"Excuse me," she said, quietly so she wouldn't be shushed again. "Where is the bathroom?"

The older student gave her directions to the loo and she bolted from the Great Hall, being careful not to slam the door. At first she was flabbergasted by the hundred and forty two moving staircases but, upon remembering her dream, she grinned and ascended the first flight.

After she'd found the bathroom and dealt with her bodily functions, she flushed and headed over to the sink to wash her hands. A heavy crash and an accompanying shatter destroyed the silence and nearly scared Sam out of her skin. Then she heard a familiar bark.

"Mocha?" Sam cried incrediously. There was no possible way, but the westland terrier was unmistakable. The dog dropped a Frisbee and Sam took it to mean she wanted to play. Sam reached for the toy-

"DON'T!" A round and middle-aged witch in green bustled forward, wand pointed. The Frisbee hurled itself out the window. Mocha made to run after it and Sam held her back.

"Where did that dog come from?" the red-faced professor demanded to know. Sam could tell she wasn't referring to the window.

"Australia," she responded, almost guilty. The witch waved her to the door. Sam obeyed and was escorted, with the dog, to the Great Hall in silence just as Snape was sorted into Slytherin. Sam wasn't surprised at all. That greasy-haired scrawny kid was a slime to the vampire girl, Ginger. She returned to sit between Astrid and the third-year.

"Cute dog," remarked Astrid quiety.

"Not mine," Sam whispered back.

"Who's?"

"Talk about it later?"

The Potters were called and they joined their friends in Gryffindor. Only one more Sorting really mattered to her now and that was of the vampire girl's. When McGonagall said, "Vaughn Lor, Ginger," Sam immediately tuned back in. She leaned forward, and...

"I cannot sort a vampire,"said the Hat. Ginger looked horrified then embarrased. She was on the verge of tears when she asked if she could be excused. The Headmaster rose from this throne-like chair.

"You may go if you wish, but you are always welcome here, just as any student is."

"I can't be a student if I'm not in a House," Ginger, miserable, pointed out.

"She can be in ours!" Jen shouted from the Gryffindor table.

"A vampire, are you kidding? That's wicked!" added Lily Evans with a grin.

"GRYFFINDOR!" the Headmaster agreed with a shout. Gryffindor started clapping, followed by Hufflepuff, the teacher's table, and Ravenclaw. The room had exploded with applause and Ginger, smiling, jogged down the length of the table and joined the Potters.

When the cheers died down, McGonagall began listing names again. Finally, the last student "Zephras, Celeste," was sorted in "RAVENCLAW!" and the Headmaster stood again.

"Before we begin our Welcoming Feast, I have... nothing to say." He winked. The room filled with the sound of clinking forks and the smell of roasted ham. Sam looked down at the golden dishes that had been set, empty, on the table before-hand. They were no longer empty and everyone was piling steak, chicken, ham, turkey, mashed potatoes and gravy, carrots and peas and buns on their plates. Sam loaded the taters and gravy and hunted down some salad.

"That's all you're going to eat?" Astrid asked in amazement. Her own plate was piled with a little bit of everything, including mint humbugs, which Sam hadn't noticed before neither wanted. To amuse Astrid, she added a few chicken legs.

Chatter had broken out all over the hall. The first years were getting to know each other and the talk turned to family. To keep herself occupied and not called upon, Sam was certain to have food in her mouth at all times. That wasn't too difficult, considering everything was delicious.

Once everyone had eaten as much as they liked, the food vanished and dessert appeared. Sam, who always had plenty of room for dessert, proceeded to pile pie sky high on her newly (and miraculously) clean plate. After dessert, when everyone was absolutely stuffed, the ice cream, tarts and such vanished too, and with it, the plates. The Headmaster stood once more, only this time he walked over to the owl-statued podium.

"Now that we're fed, there are a few noticed I am obliged to give out. The first is I request you do not enter the Forbidden Forest without the presence AND permission of the teacher." The Headmaster paused to glare at someone and there was a responding giggle.

"Secondly, I have been asked by Mr Filch to remind you that magic is not to be used in the corridors. We don't want any accidents..." He paused, again, to look at someone.

"Finally, anyone interested in joining their House Quiddich team is advised to contact Professor Lochrin. Trials will take place the second week of term. And now," he announced rather tired himself, "it's bedtime."

Sam and Astrid followed the other Hufflepuff students to the Hall of Stairs. Each of the paintings pointed and whispered as the students passed by. Astrid waved to one and a merry witch knitting in a rocking chair waved back. They were led down a staircase and into a corridor of paintings. At the end was a bright and colourful still-life of a bowl of fruit but the students were led to a stack of barrels in the right corner. One of the older students tapped the barrel two from the bottom and middle of the second row twice then thrice.

"Hel-ga Huff-le-puff," said the student as he tapped. "Just make sure you have the correct one or a barrel of vinegar will be dumped on you." The stack of barrels revealed itself to be a door and it opened to a cozy room with fireplaces, yellow hangings and fat armchairs. Sam was tempted to sit in one and doze off in that, but Astrid pipped up, "Would you like to share a dormitory with me?"

"Of course," affirmed Sam. They followed a second year, who was also going to bed, and carried their tired selves down the tunnel and to a round, wooden door that Sam and Astrid went through. They found their trunks and pet cages already in place by a couple of beds. Before drifting off to sleep, Sam felt elated and whole. Hogwarts, strange as it was, felt like home.


	8. Puzzles & Potions

_A/N: Harry Potter is MINE- only to enjoy. All due credit of the original series belongs to Jk Rowling._

Chapter 8, Classes

It was the morning after the feast. Sam had awoke to find a timetable and a pocket-watch resting on her bedside table. Cross-referencing these two tools, she realized she had plenty of time before her first class, Transfiguration, began. Astrid was snoring lightly from her bed beside Sam's and so she decided to find Flake, whose cage was empty. Sam dressed quickly in robes, and packed her book bag with texts, quills, parchment and ink.

The common room was empty save for a fat orange cat in an armchair and a painting that hung on the wall above the fireplace. The portrait was of a dignified, elderly wizard. Sam cleared her throat, clogged with sleep and disuse.

"Excuse me, but do you have the slightest clue where my owl could have gone?"

The wizard picked at his ruffled collar, disinterested, and replied in a muffled, careless tone that her owl was, presumably, in the owlery. When Sam asked where the owlery was, the wizard, annoyed, said rudely, "I'm not a map."

Outside in the Hall of Stairs, she found the portrait of the knitting witch. Sam scribbled directions on her arm in ink while the witch talked, thanked her for the directions and headed, hopefully, West.

A trap door, a low tunnel and a peculiarly tall spiral staircase later, Sam arrive in a drafty, dusty space with glassless windows and shelves with nests. A thunk spun her around and, emerging from the other side from a hole in the bookcase, was Lily Evans with a volume in hand.

Lily's eyebrows shot up into her hair. "Good morning. How did you find the attic?"

"Looking for the owlery." Lily smiled. Sam was surprised she hadn't laughed.

"How did you end up here, eh?" Sam returned. Lily blushed, sheepish.

"I was hoping to find the Astronomy Tower." The girls shared a chuckle. Lily gazed into the hole from which she'd entered.

"We should go, before we're late," Lily pointed out. Sam, staring into the maze, nodded. Reluctantly, she tore herself away from the splendid sight and followed Lily, still holding the book, down the staircase. They split up after they reached the East Wing, Lily running to join the Slytherins in Potions Class, Sam dashing to find Transfiguration and the Ravenclaws. She found some first years she recognized from the sorting in a chattery, teacher-less classroom and scurried down the isle to sit beside Astrid.

"Now would you like to talk about it?" It was then that Sam remembered she was supposed to tell Astrid about Mocha. In a hushed tone, she told her about the dog's entrance through the window in the bathroom and the teacher's reaction to the Frisbee.

"Ooh, it must be a Porkey!" Astrid deciphered excitedly. Envisioning the crash, Sam remembered Mocha had been carrying the Frisbee in her mouth when she flew through the window. The Frisbee was magic. But who had cast the spell?

"The dog belongs to my ex-neighbour in Australia." Sam, dumbfounded, didn't understand. Why was Mocha here at Hogwarts? Did her neighbour know something? In mid-thought, she realized that the entire class had gone as silent as night and every student had found the sight of Professor McGonagall.

She was a strict-looking woman with small, beady eyes framed by squared glasses. Her dark hair was pulled back into a painfully tight bun and her pointed witch's hat was neatly ironed. Her robes were bottle-green and floor-length. She rolled up her long, sweeping sleeves and wrote on the board, "Transfiguration".

"The work is difficult. Mistakes are dangerous. Any misusers of magic will be sent out and will not return. Do I make myself clear?" The students, some of backing away their chairs, nodded robotically. Professor McGonagall smiled and flicked her wrist. A wand fell from her sleeve and landed in her outstretched palm. She waved the wand at a cup, which turned into a rat and back again. A murmur spread; the students were impressed.

"We will begin with theory and later we'll see what you've learned." She talked at such a rapid rate and the chalk, floating behind her, printed every word as she spoke. The students took notes and an hour later, they had a guide of incantations and matching wand movements. Each student was given a marshmallow that they were instructed to turn into a stone. Sam managed to roast her marshmallow, but Grady Invertigus, a first-year Ravenclaw, managed to turn it into a beetle that scuttled off his desk and upset the Ravenclaw girls. Professor, amused, however slightly, told them to pack their things and expect the same lesson tomorrow but, she hoped, this time for better results.

History of Magic was an incredibly boring experience. Professor Binns was a bald ghost with a graying beard and a dull voice. The rumour was that, about a century ago, he had forgotten his body in the staff room. Sam imagined it had been a bit of a shocker when he'd glided through a wall into a room of unexpecting first-years. It was almost funny, yet it wasn't because the very thought of history made everyone...

She was an owl again, resting in a nest. Waiting...

"It's over..." Sam looked around, but the voice hadn't a source. Snapping sounds followed right in her ear. Panicked, she turned.

"You can wake up now." Sam closed and opened her eyes. She was still in a desk, though the majority of the students had left. Binns was gone, too.

"Class is over." It was Jen. Lily and Astrid stood behind her, each with a brow furrowed in concern. Sam stood, blushing and tightening her braids.

"I must have-"

"Dozed off?" Astrid finished with a giggle. She pointed to the back of the room, where a drooling Bertram was face-down in his textbook. Jen brushed Sam's "notes" off the desktop and into the bag and handed it to her.

Sam and Astrid accompanied their friends to the Great Gall, where they sat at the Gryffindor table. Jen grabbed a hot dog for each hand from the center of the table, taking a bite of each of them. Lily, who claimed to not be hungry, pulled out her notes from Potions and a spare sheet of parchment.

"Are you obsessive-compulsive?" Astrid wondered, examining her notes. The ones from before were scribbled and Lily was writing the new ones in a machine-like perfection. James, Sirius and Remus, across the table from the girls, nudged each other and smirked.

"I'm not!" Lily insisted, raising her quill in gesture.

"But how could anyone read this?" She held up the note, butchered with quill strokes.

"If you're rewriting it, you can read it," Sam reasoned. Jen chuckled. Astrid dared not, though a smirk was inaudible and Lily didn't notice.

Sam heard a screech from overhead. Expecting Flake, she looked up. She didn't see her owl, but thousands more were obscuring the ceiling as they flew above with parcels attacked to their legs or letters in their beaks. Now Sam understood what the shopkeeper at the Emporium meant about owls delivering post. Packages dropped from the sky onto the tables in front of their receivers. A large tawny one carrying a single slip of parchment landed on Jen's shoulder. Jen took the note and read aloud,

"Your brother told me you might need this: 'Katt finns'?" A spark of white light produced a tiny black kitten, which Jen immediately scooped up with a cry of, "Midnight!" James, shame-faced and reluctant, spoke up.

"I didn't know how to bring her back and I knew you were mad, so I mailed Mum."

Jen narrowed her eyes, then smiled. "Thanks, but because of the worry I went through, this does NOT make us even." James folded his arms across his chest and looked squarely at his cousin.

Jen grinned mischievously. "You know what I want. Let me borrow it."

James swelled indignantly, puffed his cheeks and rolled his eyes. "Fine," he gave, but he pointed a finger at Jen, who glared at him cross-eyed beneath her glasses. "Not tonight."

"What about tonight?" Sirius gave him a meaningful look and a forced smile, which just made him look a bit derranged. Remus, shaking his shaggy head, opened a book.

"_How To Tame The Monster_?" Sam muttered, reading the cover. It wasn't one that she had read, nor was it on the school list. Blushing furiously, Remus removed the book from the table and picked up a sandwich instead.

"You read!" Sam was delighted. Apart from possibly Lily, no-one shared her interest in books.

"Oh," realized Remus, staring at the book as though he'd never seen it before. "Yes, I read loads. You?"

"Tons," she replied with a grin. "Could I borrow it?"

"You may if I can borrow one of yours." Sam considered the bargain and opened her black book bag. All of the books she currently carried were school-related.

"I... left my books..." Sam realized. She was awash in the horror that she hadn't noticed before. She hadn't felt like she was forgetting anything, but those hundred books her mother had left in her possession had been her life for the past four years besides harvesting macadamia.

How was she going to get a book without a delivering owl?


	9. The Nutty Professor

_A/N: Forgive me, readers, for my tardiness with this chapter. I own only the characters I've made and Hogwarts belongs to the wonderfully brilliant J.K Rowling._

Nine: Professor Primus

Potions was also a challenging yet captivating subject. Magic, apart from funny-word saying and wand-waving, included brews and stews, all of which had properties not of the normal soup variety. There were potions that turned you into somebody else, to identify a truth from a lie, and even one that granted luck. There were cursed batches that made tongues fall out or scalps grow itchy warts, but the teacher, chubby, stubby, snub-nosed Professor Slughorn, said there would be friendly potions only.

Their first lesson was a potion to cure a wizard's cold. A wizard's cold could be a nasty thing, lasting anywhere from six weeks to eleven years. Each symptom was matched with a corresponding herb or supplement. For the coughing, add three sylph tears. For sneezing, set the temperature for maximum and drink it hot. For headache, stir counterclockwise. Each pair of students was given a different case to solve. One pair of students perfected their potion.

"Congratulations, Hayden and Severus." Hayden, a short witch with waist-lenth raven hair, stood and bowed. Snape sneered viciously. Sam noticed a bruise on his cheek.

"They sure are humble," Astrid muttered sarcastically, pouring out the viscous, cloudy orange liquid (according to the instructions, it was supposed to have turned bright blue).

The last class of the day was Defense Against the Dark Arts. Sam had been looking forward to it since she'd heard bits and pieces of lessons from the fourth years at the Welcoming Feast. According to them, the teacher had been replaced every year for as long as any of them could remember. A fifth-year, an emblazoned silver crest gleaming on her robes, had said the position had been cursed more than twenty years ago.

Professor Primus an abnormally tall witch with blonde ringlets and silvery eyes that reminded Sam of Ollivander's. Her revealed ears showed a ridiculous abundance of piercings and the earrings were painted as planets that some of the more mundane students, like Sam and Lily, had never seen before. She wore ruby red robes and a black shawl on top.

The students, who had expected more theory, was delighted to find that they would be taking a field trip.

"I thought Dumbledore-"

"Professor Dumbledore," Professor Primus corrected patiently.

"Yeah, him," agreed James. "I thought he didn't want us in there."

"You have my permission and I'll be going with you." Professor Primus headed towards the door and paused in the threshold. "Unless, of course," she added with a conspirator's grin, "you'd rather stay here and do some more work?" The teacher exited and the students immediately followed.

Professor Primus and the frightened first year class stood near the mouth of the Dark Forestt. Some of the students, like Lily and Peter, refused to enter.

"I'm not taking you anywhere you can't handle," the professor encouraged.

Jen grinned. "Besides, it sounds like fun."

"I dunno about that," Ginger retorted. As Sam listened to the Gryffindors argue, she was looking into the vast darkness of trees so tall they disappeared into the sky. The little stone figurines from the marble bag were swirling around in her mind. Now, waiting, she expected to see one of those figures, full size and alive.

"She's just as scared as me, right Sam?" Hearing her name brought her back to the class. Lily was looking at her expectantly.

"I'm not scared!" Sam protested. Ginger, Astrid and Lily revealed their wands.

"Just curious," said James, who was grinning like his cousin.

"But it is full of danger and monsters, isn't it?" Sam asked, still eyeing the shadows in the bushes and branches. She turned to the quiet professor and repeated, "Isn't it?"

"Well, yes," the professor coughed nervously, "but they won't bother you if you leave them alone."

This gave the students enough confidence to start down the only path througt the Dark Forest, Jen first and Peter last. On the walk, Remus nudged Sam and pointed to a blur of brown.

"What was that, d'you suppose?" Peter squeaked.

"Hippogriff," Sam said automatically, thinking of her mother's books.

"Excellent, 10 points to Hufflepuff!" called Professor Primus, who was reaching the expanding blue-black of the lake. It glittered like eyes and watched Sam as Sam glared at it.

"Excuse me, Professor," Lily spoke up. She was frowning over her timetable. "This is defense class. Hippogriffs are for third years."

"I award you in triumph," said the professor simply," regardless of what category. Now, gather 'round. It's time to earn some A's!" The students broke off into pairs, Sam with Astrid, Remus with Peter, James with Jen (since Lily shot him down) and so on.

The professor instructed, "Repeat: Expelliarmus!"

The lake's surface rippled with the echoed shouts of "Expelliarmus" from the students. A squat, brunette witch started rapidly apologizing to Lily, whose wand had ended up in the lake.

"Accio wand!" shouted the professor. Without warning, no fewer than thirty-seven wands whizzed through the air and fell around the giggling Professor Primus.

"That's- aha- it for today. Collect your wands- hehe- and have a great day." The students could hear her laughing long after they'd arrived back through the Forest and to the mouth where they'd entered.

"D'you reckon she's delirious?" asked Peter as the students disbanded to their common rooms or the library.

"I think she's wonderful," answered Jen cheerfully. James, Sirius and Remus nodded in agreement. Ginger shook her head.

"There's something odd about that one," she countered.

"That's what goes through my head whenever I think about Severus Snape." James and his friend laughed heartily. Lily ruffled her robes and headed for the castle. James ran after her.

"Evans, I'm joking!"

"Is he always like this?" Sam asked, pointing after James and Lily

"Only since he met her. He's asked her out nine times already, the first being at King's Cross," said Sirius, shaking his curly mane. Astrid whistled.

"Yikes."


End file.
